


Gunshots

by TimmyJaybird



Series: Ground Zero [1]
Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-26
Updated: 2013-10-26
Packaged: 2017-12-30 13:58:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1019449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimmyJaybird/pseuds/TimmyJaybird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Joker, with a little help, manages to get Batman unconscious, restrained, and all to himself in his hideout. In the dark, he can finally live a few of his delicious fantasies- until the seams that hold Gotham's criminal underworld together are torn asunder, and a war that's been building for years finally erupts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gunshots

He paced the room as the light flickered overhead, occasionally casting him in blackness for a heartbeat. His lips seemed to twitch, eyes unsettling on anything in the sparse room as he wrung his hands together, purple leather sliding together.

The object of the Joker’s unease sat in the middle of the room, unconscious and tied to a simple, flimsy wooden chair. Batman’s head was resting down against his chest, his breathing steady, shallow, uninterrupted and calm. He’d been there for a good ten minutes, had been unconscious for near an hour- it had taken long than anticipated to get him moved to the old building the Joker was currently calling home.

The twitching man walked towards him, reached out- pulled his hand back at the last second and cradled it to his chest instead. He lacked his purple jacket- it suffocated him in the warm room- he’d made sure to have it warm, he didn’t want his Bat catching a death of a cold- he was left in just his vest and a patterned green shirt- the sleeves rolled up from the labor off hoisting Batman into the chair and tying him up. That suit made him heavy-

He had been happy to have Harley’s help, even if she couldn’t lift much. Her grating voice had kept him from cracking through the whole operation- had also served as the perfect excuse for Batman to crane his neck just right to look at her when he had the Joker cornered, for the clown to slip out the needle he’d managed to get off an overly high Scarecrow and jab it into his neck, fill him with enough drugs to knock him out cold on his tight ass.

The Joker reached up, chewed on the tip of his gloved finger as he watched the man. Still, he should be waking up soon, opening those dark eyes. He hadn’t messed up the dosage, had he? Oh, that would be just perfect, he’d kill the Bat before he’d had any fun.

He heard footsteps outside the door and tensed, ready to scream at Harley if she dared to enter. He’d forbid it- told her to find something, _anything_ to entertain her time while he spent the night with his Bat. She could burn down all of Gotham for all he cared- he just wanted to be alone, with Batman.

The footsteps continued though, and she was gone, off to brood or dream of redheads, he didn’t know. He’d find out later, when it mattered, when he cared.

All that mattered now was the Bat.

He walked towards the door, flicked that damned flickering light off, flooded the room in a cool darkness. It was too much- his senses couldn’t handle all of this, seeing him, smelling him, hearing his breathing. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples and clicked his tongue and wondered if the man would ever wake up.

As if an answer, he heard a groan from the middle off the room. Jerking his head up, he walked over, his heels _click click clicking_ on the old wooden floor. He walked behind the chair, could just make out a few outlines- reached out and traced his fingers along Batman’s shoulder. The curve of it told him he had lifted his head.

“Good morning sleepy head,” he mewled, leaning down, and he felt the man go rigid. “Oh, don’t do that Bats, you’ll have more fun if you’re, ah, _relaxed_.”

“Where am I?” the words were heavy in his mouth, his tongue thick and lazy. He was still pretty heavily drugged.

“ _Home_ , sugar,” the Joker purred, those fingers tracing up along the curves of Batman’s neck. “I was worried you wouldn’t wake up, sleeping beauty.”

Batman struggled, felt like he was suffocating under his cowl- but his heart lurched when he felt those fingers tracing the seem of his mask and suit.

“You’ll get shocked,” he breathed, his mind clearing a bit, “you know that.”

“Do I now?” He leaned down, pressed his forehead to the back of Batman’s head, both his hands up now, tracing the cowl, gripping the edges. And then, in one sweet, fluid movement, he jerked it up. Batman heard it tear, it was still sealed in place, and felt the pit in his stomach grow cold when he realized the man behind him stood without so much as a hair out of place, holding the one thing that kept him safe.

Suddenly, he was Bruce tied to a chair with a maniac in the dark.

“See Bats, I’m just fine,” the Joker said, tossing the mask behind him into the dark. He grabbed Bruce’s head, tipped it back and threaded his gloved fingers into his short dark hair, his other hand reaching out to trace along his exposed cheek. “Relax a little- do you think I can actually see you?”

Bruce closed his eyes, realized the man was right- it was so dark there was no way the Joker could make out a detail of his face. Sighing, he opened his eyes and looked up, knowing the man was there in the darkness.

“If you don’t want to see me, what _do_ you want?” The Joker grinned, though Bruce couldn’t see it, and leaned down, lips sinking into his hair, a rather soft kiss.

“Just you, Bats,” he said, stroking his cheek- and Bruce felt an odd heat radiating from his scalp- from where those lips had touched, from where those fingers gripped his hair and sent sparks down him. The heat pooled in his belly and tightened into a knot- a slick knot that seethed and writhed with every stroke of the Joker’s nimble fingers.

“Maybe you should untie me, then you can have me all you want.” The line was meant to come out flat- a threat, a promise of fists and broken bones and flowering bruises- but Bruce realized he was smirking as he spoke- his voice has lost some gravel, threatened to turn silky, like he used for the media, for the girls he had to seduce to keep up an image.

The Joker laughed, and suddenly released him. Bruce could hear the _click click clicking_ of his heels as he walked around, and suddenly there was a wieght on his thighs, in his lap- the Joker was straddling him.

“You make a tempting offer, Bats,” he whispered, leaning close- so close Bruce could feel his breath. It ghosted over his lips and chin, and he could just see those green eyes- this close he knew some details of his face had to stand out. “But you’ve got to earn that freedom.”

Bruce opened his mouth to respond, but was never given the chance. In a breath there was a pair of warm lips against his- layered in luscious red paint. They moved eagerly against his, and Bruce- before he even realized what his body was doing- was pressing back, moving rhythmically- falling into something he knew. He heard a little surprised sound form the Joker, then felt arms around his neck, a slim chest pressed to his as the man pulled himself closer.

When the Joker’s tongue flicked against his lips he realized for a moment who this was- just who was straddling him and kissing him and causing a tightness in the groin of his suit. Bruce tugged on his restraints as he opened his mouth- not to free his arms and collide his fist with that painted grin, but to sink his gloves hands into green curls and keep him close.

Something inside of Bruce cracked open a bit in that moment, and all the blood and sweat and primal need that always laced he and the Joker’s meetings began to flow inside- the slowly pool in him, around him, with the intent to drown him.

That tongue felt amazing in his mouth, the way it pinned and stroked his- explored every bit of space and muscle. Breathing escalating, he asked, quietly, meekly, just as the Joker leaned back and let him breath-

“Please, untie me.”

The Joker grinned, but his head was fuzzy. How long he’d wanted to taste that mouth, the one bit of humanity he always saw in the Bat. How long he’d dreamed and imagined and closed his eyes and seen and almost tasted it. To have it so freely, so easily, it was enough to overdose him.

He was shaking, he realized, and he was going to do it- he was going to free him and hope- trust in something hot inside him that his Bat was just as intoxicated. But before he could move the room seemed to shake with a sudden unearthly sound- the kind of air and space splitting open-

A bomb. And close.

Gritting his teeth, torn from the reality he had longed for, the Joker launched himself off Bruce and paced through the darkness. Bruce listened, acutely aware now too and twitching to have a limb free. He heard the Joker return- felt the air move and change and grow warm, and suddenly he was shoving something down over his face, fitting it into place over his eyes and nose.

His mask. He’d put it back on.

Then the _click click clicking_ and he was throwing the door open, screaming at the top of his lungs, “Harley!”

Running footsteps, something falling, breaking, and she appeared, blonde hair down and rather wild, no longer in her suit. “Puddin’! You gotta look outside-“

“What the hell was that?” He stormed from the doorway, the lighting in the hallway splitting his head wide open.

“A bomb! Just down the street- I think someone knows we’re here Puddin’! They’ve got guns out there.”

Cursing, the Joker shoved past her, moving the one of the windows, covered by a black, heavy curtain. He slipped them open just a sliver and peeked into the dark street, lit by streetlights and the ever present moon. Sure enough, there were men out there- heavily dressed, holding guns and plenty of other fun looks toys, rummaging in and out of the various old buildings along the street. Gritting his teeth, the Joker turned and walked back to Harley.

“Get dressed,” he said, rather unhappily. “We’re going.”

“Going where honeybunny-“

“Just _go_!” he growled, and she jumped, and was off. He rubbed his temples, then turned and walked back into the darkness, towards the figure of the Bat now illuminated by the light in the hallway.

Batman strained against the restraints once, then settled as the Joker walked behind him. He heard the sound of a blade- how it switchd up, was flung free- and suddenly the bindings around him loosened. He pulled and them and his arms were free, just as the Joker was crouching down and cutting the ropes around his ankles.

“As much as I hate to cut short our play date,” he said, flipping the blade closed and shoving it into his pocket, “something as, ah, come up, and we’ll just have to reschedule.”

“What was that?” Batman asked as he stood, remembering the loud sound that had jarred them back to reality.

“The beginning of a war.” The Joker turned just as Harley rushed in, handing him his jacket. He slipped it on, messed with his curls, before he took a small, rather dainty handgun that Harley offered and stuffed it into an inner pocket. “Now, if you’re interested in not getting caught in the middle of it all sweetcheeks, I suggest you come with us.”

Batman should have knocked him to the ground and demanded answers- but Bruce was still buzzing from that kiss, and all he could do was follow them as they left the room. He tried to take in where they were- one of the old apartment buildings- the large, fancy ones that had gone to the wayside as the city turns towards modernity.

They traveled up a lfight of stairs, and finally out into a hallway, where they foudn wider stairs. Taking them two at a time, Bruce tried to read anything about the two clowns’ movements- but got nothing. Whatever panic he heard earlier was gone- Harley moved as if this was all part of a plan, and the Joker acted as if it was just another day.

Maybe it was. Bruce knew as much as he could about the crime life in Gotham- but he never knew all of it. He did know the Joker had plenty of enemies, though.

The stopped another floor up, went into another apartment, and straight to a large window that opened up into a fire escape. Harley threw open a curtain, looked around, then smiled.

“All clear boss.”

The Joker unlocked the windows and threw them open, hopping through first. Bruce watched as he reached back in and helped Harley climb out- keeping a slim arm locked with her until he was sure she had her footing. It was a sudden act of compassion he hadn’t expected.

“C’mon cupcake,” the Joker said, reaching in and grasping Bruce’s hand. The vigilante followed them, saw Harley was already climbing down.

“What is going on?” he asked as the Joker and he descended.

“A war, sugar, I already said that. Although, I was hoping it might postpone itself for at least a few weeks.” He clicked his tongue in annoyance, then grabbed the railing and leaped over, sending himself down a few feet to land on the next level of the fire escape. Bruce followed, not wanting to fall behind.

“What war?”

“Do I need to spell everything out for you?” the Joker asked as he increased his pace. Bruce could see the ground now- Harley was already there, tapping her foot and looking around, hand clutching a gun like it meant life or death.

It probably did.

“Think about it, Batsy,” the Joker said as he hopped down onto the pavement. “You’ve got a city full of criminals- there’s so many of us I bet you can’t even keep our names straight. And while most of us have the same agenda to an extent- killing you, sugarlips- we’re _no-t_ all the same. And we all want to be on top.”

Idly, he reached out, tucked some of Harley’s hair back as Bruce reached the ground.

“And this war,” the Joker said, “is between all of us, for your city. Gotham can’t handle this many criminals- she’s just not big enough. And we’re sick of carving her up. It’s all or nothing- and if we don’t play our cards right, it will be every. Man. For. Himself.”

He turned away from the two and walked along the narrow alley, peeking out into the street, before hurrying back.

“Best get back to your batcave,” he said, looking at Bruce. “This isn’t your war.”

Bruce hesitated a moment, before finally speaking, clutching his hands into fists. “If it has to do with this city-“

“If you’re lucky, we’ll all just kill each other off.” The Joker reached out, squeezed an arm around Harley’s shoulders. “You ready to go doll?”

She beamed at the attention, grinning and nodded, nearly bursting into a mass of gleeful nerves in the alley. The Joker pat her shoulder before he walked over to Bruce, tracing a finger up his Kevlar covered chest.

“Get outta here Bats,” he said, leaning closer, “I promise, we’ll finish what we started some other time.”

He closed the gap, and Bruce felt dizzy the moment their lips crashed together. It was brief, just a glimpse, a taste of heat and sweetness, and then the Joker was turning and grabbing Harley, making their way towards the street.

Torn, Bruce turned and hurried off in the other direction- into the darkness, before he could hear gunshots shattering the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Well hello everyone! I hope you enjoyed this little introduction to my new series. My hope is to get a little bit more, ah, story line going on in this series. And, of course, lots of Batman/Joker- I really can't not write it. The updates may come a bit slower, due to final season coming upon me, and having to do a bit of research for some of the upcoming characters.
> 
> And to the Harley/Joker fans, I do apologize if you started reading this and expected tons of feels for them. While I'm a Harley fan (it took a while, but I'd got some rather fond feelings for her now), I don't have any intention of really developing a romance between her and Mista J. Just a heads up :)
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


End file.
